Secrets and Lies
by quorndawg40
Summary: Lies never bother Dean, but one is hurting him in more ways than one. Rated M for language and violence. Delays and a short chap.
1. Poker Night

"Don't," he protested as he was pushed up against the wall, arms pinned above his head. 

"Shut up and don't move," growled the Other crushing a kiss upon his unwilling mouth.

"You don't want to do this," he pleaded when he was given the opportunity to catch a breath, trying to push the Other off of him.

"Yes, I do," sneered with a knowing look in the Other's eyes slamming him back to the wall.

"No... please..." he begged, knowing what was going to happen.

He was answered with a punch to the face. Pain exploded from the sudden and unexpected punishment. He had no time to respond for the speed and force of the blows that followed.  
Huddled on the floor he was trying to catch his breath, he was barely able move or think straight.

Powerless to stop it, he was dragged to the middle of the room and his clothes were then ripped from his body. The Other's hands were all over, violating him, all of his defenses easily brushed aside. He had not wanted things to get this far, knowing he should have left, he saw all the signs, but thought this time he had the situation under control. Sadly, he was mistaken.

He was turned onto his stomach and before he could react he felt the brutal force and burning when the Other entered him unbidden. He let out a muffled cry clawing the carpet to get away.

"Scream for me bitch," laughed the Other grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back, riding him with brutal delight. His futile attempts to escape stopped, he just wanted it to end. He felt as though he was being ripped in two from the sheer force of the attack. After an eternity, it was over.

"Bitch, you are a sweet piece of ass," the Other purred then slid out of him, leaving him on the floor, beaten and bleeding. He could hear the Other move to the bathroom and start the shower. Slowly getting up, he searched his clothes.

"Shit," he muttered softly as he saw that his shirt was ripped and the zipper on his jeans was busted. Fearing time was running out, he put them on anyway, grabbed his keys, and left.

He drove around for two hours before returning the motel room. Opening the door slowly so as not to make a sound, he saw by the ambient light that one of the beds was occupied and that the occupant seemed to be asleep. He closed the door and went to the bathroom, started the shower, stripped, and got under the hot spray. He let the water beat into his skin as he tried to scrub away the filth he had become. He noted that even though he bled it was not as bad as last time. When the water turned cold he shut off the shower and dried himself off. He forgot to get clean clothes and had thrown away the ruined ones. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he went to his duffle on the bed in the adjoining room.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled sleepily, rolling over to switch on the light. He was shocked at the sight of his brother. Dean had bruises on his right side and back, a black eye, and a swolen lip.

"Dean! What happened to you?" exclaimed Sam. Concern, worry, and confusion took hold of him as he jumped out of bed and hurried to his older brother.

"Just a little fight, no big deal. You should see the other guys" Dean answered with a grin, tying his sweat pants. Trying to assess how bad his injuries were, Sam touched his brother's bruised side. Dean winced and took a hasty step back.

"Dammit Sam!" he hissed, "Yes, it hurts and no, nothing's broken." To halt the ministrations, he roughly pushed Sam's fluttering hands away and moved to the bed. He was tired and he hurt and he did not want to be touched.

"What was it? Another 'misunderstanding'?" Sam demanded, wanting to help but not knowing how. Softly he said, "At least it is not as bad as last time." He was remembering two months ago when Dean dragged in with three broken ribs, two black eyes, broken nose, and a busted mouth with two loose teeth. Saying that it was a misunderstanding between a woman and her biker boyfriend, he had barely let Sam help him then. A laugh, a wink and all was done. Sam knew when Dean was done with a conversation.

"Poker. We need money and I know how to get it. Dude," Dean said with his patented smile, "it was only after the third bluff that anything happened. And besides, it looks worse that it is."

Hoping that Sam did not see how painful it was for him to lay down on the bed, he quickly added "I just let my guard down. Too many beers. So shut up and get the light." He rolled over to his left side facing away from his brother's quesitons. He Knew that Sam could see right through him if he tried. Though he could lie with the best of them, Dean hated lying to his brother. How could he look into those eyes and not tell the truth, but he loved him too much to ever let Sam know.


	2. Sam Wonders

Dean, you can keep all the secrets you want but quit feeding me these bullshit lies. I am psychic, I will find out the truth. It would be so easy to just pick the thoughts right out of your brain. Oh wait, my freakness does not work that way. I have to dream it. Shit. But I can find out other ways.

Don't think that I haven't noticed how you keep your distance, avoid my touch, and watch me all the time. I see the way you causually sidestep me when I get too close, pretending to need to be somewhere else right that second. I feel you watching me when you think that I cannot see. I feel your eyes on me from accross the room.

What is going on with you, Dean? Talk to me, dammit! You are driving me insane with your smartass remarks and stupid jokes whenever I try to ask anything about what happened at that poker game. Quit shutting me out when all I want to do is help.

'I just let my guard down.' When have you ever let your guard down, Dean? You of constant wariness. You have been on too many hunts and been in too many redneck bars to make me think that you ever stop being on guard. You of all people know the dangers out there, you have warned me enough, to ever let anyone or anything get too close. Not even me.

'Too many beers.' Yeah, right. I know you can hold you liquor. I have also watched you nurse a beer for hours, pretending to have had a half a dozen or more so you can keep you edge while hussling. I know how you can play it, seen many of your tricks to win the money. You are too smart let yourself be dulled by alcohol.

And I hardly ever see you relax anymore. You are always tense, to varying degrees. When we are on a hunt, I see the 'game on' tenseness needed to get the advantage over the demon, spirit, whatever. I see the 'trust me' tenseness you try to hand off as charming to anyone you need information. I see the 'is it Dad' tenseness you get everytime the phone rings. I also see the 'I don't know' tenseness when we are together. It could be in the car traveling from place to place. It could be in the crappy motel/hotel, all we could afford, shithole we are in for the night. I just do not get it, what have I done?

The only time I ever see you not tense is when you have just helped me out of a bad nightmare, late at night. I see you in the ambient light, concern in your eyes, your hand on my shoulder, reassuring me that it is all right. Those are the only times you ever volentarily touch me. You ask me what it was about, I tell you, you go back to bed. Dean, that is also the only time you fall asleep before I do anymore. Each night we go to bed, I know you are just lying there waiting for me to drift off. I try sometimes to pretend that I have so that I can hear you sleep, but you play it then, too. With all that tension rolling off of you, how can you ever get any sleep at all. Like I am one to talk about getting sleep.

You are acting just like you did after the 'misunderstanding' with that biker chick and her boyfriend. You barely let me help you then. Hell, the only reason I got to help is because your broken ribs needed to be wrapped and you could not do it yourself. Dean, you went through the same 'don't touch me, keep away, I am watching you' phase then, too. What is going on? You have been hurt worse during hunts and let me help you. What are you not telling me? Why do you have act this way around me?

Dean, please, talk to me. 


	3. Hustling Pool, part 1

Title: Secrets and Lies, Hustling Pool, part 1  
Summery: The gods laugh when we make plans  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but mine to toy with.

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He was getting restless, 'time to go.' He got off the bed, slipped into his boots, grabbed his coat, and started to the door.

"You're not leaving," a dark voice commanded. He turned to look toward the voice, he thought that the owner was sleeping.

"Dude, I've got to--" he started to say.

"You are staying here," the Other cut him off, striding up to him, stopping only inches from his face. Looking down into his eyes, the Other placed a hand possessively on his right shoulder.

Shrugging the hand off, he stepped back and was stoped short by the door. 'Shit, I thought this was over, it has been, what, two months.' He could see the fire in the Other's eyes and the dark look that clouded the Other's face. He remembered the plan so that neither of them would get hurt.

"Listen to me. S--" he started again, throwing his coat onto a nearby chair, he then put his hand on the Other's arm.

"NO! You listen to me, bitch," grabbing his wrist the Other whipped him around and wrenched his arm behind his back, pinning him against the door.

"Fuck! You can't -- Wait, don't -- " he sputtered as the other started to grind against him. 'this is not going well, i have to stop this.'

"You want it, don't you slut," the Other whispered into his ear. He could feel the Other's erection pressing against him. "You want it long and hard."

'this is so not happening.' Pushing from the door, he knocked the Other back. He quickly turned around and yelled, "Dammit! S--"

Before he got the words out of his mouth the Other attacked with such speed he was caught off guard. The Other's shoulder was rammed into his chest so hard that he could feel ribs cracking. He was knocked to the wall out of breath. He had no time to recover for the Other grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into a knee that was brought up to meet it. Pain exploded from his nose, broken and bleeding freely.

He fell to the floor gasping for breath. He tried to get up to defend himself, but was hit again and again. He lost count of the number of times he was punched and the pain his face was in was increasing exponentially. 'hey college boy, big word, exponentially' he thought absurdly as he struggled breathe. The Other had stopped and walked away.

Thinking was hard as he lay on the floor. 'this is not working' he thought desperately. Try though he might, he could barely see, his left eye had swollen shut and the other was quickly following. He was bleeding from his mouth as well as his nose and he felt as though his jaw was cracked. Breathing hurt so much that there must be broken ribs and massive amounts of bruising. He could hear movement in the motel room so he knew the Other was still there, he just could not figure out where. He had to escape, he started feeling for the door.

He was met with a kick to the stomach and another and another. He screamed out in agony, pain was everywhere, he could not get away from it or what was causing it. "Stop, please..." begging the Other for a respite.

"You want me to stop bitch" sneered the Other draging him to the middle of the floor. With a lustful tone "Then you want something else, now don't you slut." He could feel the Other's hands on him, taking off his clothes.

"No... don't... please..." he pleaded and tried to stop the violation of his body. In his weakened state his attempts were soon quelled. The Other laughed at the pathetic defenses and kissed his bloody mouth. "You have such a pretty mouth," and kissed him again. "I know what a whore like you needs."

He was turned over onto his stomach, the Other's hands controlling his movements. 'no!' his mind screamed, 'not this!' But there was nothing he could do, the Other had his arms trapped under him against the floor. The Other grabbed his ass and shoved into him hard.

He let out a terrible choaking scream, the pain was almost unbearable. "Scream for me bitch, I know you want me." He could feel something tear and the warm slick of blood with every thrust. Tears were free flowing down his face as he struggled to get away, but it was hopeless.

The Other seized his hair in one hand and his thoat in the other, and with each thrust "You are so tight." "Take it all in." "Bitch you now what I like." Over and over again for what felt like hours. When he felt the Other come it was like hot fire inside, burning him. "Bitch you are a fine piece of ass," the Other purred into his ear, slid out of him, and left.

He hardly registered that he was alone and that the shower was on. 'get up, get out, now!' his mind commanded, 'you don't want to be here when he returns.' Slowly he started to move, levering himself up on his hands and knees. He felt around on the for his clothes, finding his shirt and jeans. He got the shirt on with dificutly and the jeans were even worse. The blood that was flowing from his ass did not seem to want to stop, it was soaking through his jeans. He jumped when he thought he heard the shower stop. 'get out now!' in a panic he got to his feet and found the door.


	4. Hustling Pool, part 2

Title: Secrets and Lies, Hustling Pool, part 2  
Summery: The gods laugh when we make plans  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but mine to toy with.

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Trying to stay upright, he stumbled out of the motel room. In his haste, he forgot his boots, coat, and keys, instead taking car and driving away, he made his way around the building, 'get away, run', and hid behind the dumpster. The temperature was in the mid-40s but he did not acknowledge the cold, he was too busy waiting -- waiting for the sound of the Other's footsteps coming to find him, waiting for the wounds to stop bleeding, waiting for the pain to go away, waiting for this nightmare to end. 'hurts. why could i not stop it? pain. is that him? no. hurts. please no.' was his mantra through the night, the tears had stopped but the panic had not.

Hours later when the sun started to rise, he crept back to the motel room. He saw no signs that the Other tried to follow, but at the time all he wanted to do was get away. Noting that the light was on, he slowly he opened the unlocked door and peered in the room through his swollen eyeslids. When he saw that no one was there, he stepped inside. He had just gotten the door closed when Sam came out of the ajoining bathroom, dressed and ready for the day.

"Dean!" exclaimed Sam when he saw his brother at the door, "What happened?" Concern, worry, and fear took over because all he could see was blood. It covered Dean's face, smeared and splattered on his t-shrit, all over his arms and hands, and soaked through his jeans at the crotch and inner thigh. Also, Dean did not have his coat or boots, he was shivering. 'no shaking, how long had he been out?'

'no, please no' thought Dean, flinching at the shout, hand still on the doorhandle, ready to run. He cringed back when the person came to him and tried to put his hands on him. "D-doonnn," his word slurred through swollen lips, holding out his hand to keep the person at bay. Panic renewed its hold.

'don't touch me!' his mind screamed, his breathing shallow and ragged as he poised for another attack, although he did not know if he had the strengh. "P-pleess d-d-doonn" he sputtered a plea. 'stay away!' his mind begged, shaking with fear, he did not know what to do.

"Dean, it's me Sam," he said softer when he saw the fright that his brother was displaying. Sam bent down so that his shorter brother could see his face. He brought his hands down and did not attempt to touch Dean again. With a closer look he assessed the damage beyound the bleeding: Dean's eyes were buised and neary swollen shut, his nose looked broken, both lips were split and swollen, there was bruising along his jaw, and from how he was holding his right side, his ribs were either bruised or fractured.

Dean listened to the voice, to the words that were being said. It sounded like Sam, said all the things that Sam would have said, he wanted it to be Sam, but he could not be sure. He did not want to be tricked. 'is it you?'

"You're safe now, no one is going to hurt you," reassuring his older brother, "I just want you to come sit on the bed so that I can see how badly you're injured." Sam backed up to show Dean that he meant just what he said. "Dean, please, let me help you." Sam tried to guide him to the nearest bed, but Dean backed away from him. Keeping his distance, Sam's mind raced with the horrible scenarios of what happened.

Dean relaxed a tiny bit when he saw that the person was staying back. 'it has to be Sam...just Sam' he mind grasped at the hope that his brother was there and not the Other. 'help me' Dean thought looking at his younger brother. Clearing his throat, Dean stammered, "S-saamn, I ffinn, I jjuss nee to gea cleeenn uuff," hoping he kept the fear and uncertainty out of his statement.

"Dammit Dean, you are not fine. You can barely stand. Let me help you," exasperated Sam stepped up to his brother. He would tie him down if neccessary to work on him, but Dean could not do this by himself.

Tensing up agian, Dean said with the hardest voice he could muster, "No Ssamn! I'n ffinn. Ii llooos wrosss thaan ii eess. I ssplann laa'er." Trying not to stumble, he took a step toward the bathroom. Pain shot through his body with every movement, but he would not let Sam see any more weakness. Steadying himself, he stepped past Sam, and went to the bathroom, keeping Sam in his sites at all times.

Not believing a word that his older brother had said, Sam acquiesced, knowing how stubborn he could be. "Okay, Dean, I'll be here if you need any help," he sighed and let Dean go into the bathroom alone. 'what did you get yourself into? why are you so reluctant to let me help you, you always let me help before? why did you not have your coat or boots?' Sam wracked his brain to try to make sense of the situation. Frustration took over when he could not come up with any answers.


	5. Hustling Pool, part 3

Title: Secrets and Lies, Hustling Pool, part 3  
Summery: The gods laugh when we make plans  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but mine to toy with.

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Relief flooded Dean when he reached the bathroom, he shut the door and locked it. Then he leaned against the sink so as not to fall down, he was shaking so badly. When he thought he could move again, he tried to get undressed, but it was too hard. He could not pull off his shirt or jeans because the dried blood had stuck them to his skin. Dean got into the shower fully clothed. He let the hot water splash over him hoping it would wash away all the ugliness and pain he felt. Dean peeled away the clothes when the water had softened the dried blood enough, took the soap and scrubbed at his skin. 'couldn't stop it, couldn't' The rectal bleeding had stopped and the hot water was helping with the soreness he felt all over.

Dean knew that it was Sam in the other room. He had replayed the words he said and thought it could only be Sam. Sam listened to him and did what he asked. The Other would have laughed and took what he wanted. Sam let him come into the bathroom alone knowing he needed privacy. Sam always wanted to help, the Other only wanted to hurt.

The water was running cold but he continued, he had to get clean. Dean could hear Sam's concerned voice calling from the other room, but he chose not to comprehend. He was too busy tring to get it off, it was still the clinging to him: the violation, the helplessness, the weakness.

When the soap was gone and the water was ice cold, Dean turned off the shower. Drying himself off he assessed the damage, 'it's not so bad.' Looking into the mirror he grimaced, with a depreciating chuckle, 'dude, you fugly.' He was avoiding thinking of what had happened. He realized that he did not bring his duffle with him. 'shit, i'm not ready' carefully opening the door, he looked around for Sam. What he found was that his duffle was right ouside the door with a note on top.

Dean - went to get food and bandages, be back soon - Sam

Sam did not want to leave Dean alone, but he knew that they did not have either. He had reluctantly left hoping to be back before Dean got out of the shower.

Dean blinked at the note and grabbed his stuff. He dressed in underwear and jeans leaving the shirt for later. He was very aware that Sam wanted to examine him, but he could not let those hands touch him again. What was he going to tell Sam? He knew they had a plan, but that did not go very well. This was something he was going to deal with on his own. There was no way he thought Sam could handle this. It would tear him apart. And no how was Dean going to burden him with this.

When Sam returned with coffee, food, and bandages, Dean was sitting on the bed nervously twisting his shirt. He played off his painful movements on the injuries to his ribs, which was not that far of a stretch. With as little touching as possible, he let Sam examine the head wounds and the ribs, but nothing else. He had in fact three broken ribs, which he told his little brother to wrap. No hospitals. And he had two loose teeth, but there was nothing they could do about them.

In the mean time, Dean had told Sam the story of how he was flirting with this chick at the bar where he was hustling pool. One thing lead to another and that lead to her jealous biker boyfriend telling Dean to beat it and showing him how to do it. It was a misunderstaning: he misunderstood that she was alone and she misunderstood that she was not alone, and biker dude misunderstood that pummeling does not get the offender out of town very fast.

A laugh. A wink. Conversation over.


	6. Dean Ponders

What the fuck am I going to do, Sam? I am constantly watching you and fearing that I will do something that will give away something. I am always tense. I shake at the possiblitiy that it will happen again. I fear demons less than this. Dammit!

Sam, I need help. You would know the answers or where to get them. Shit, this would kill you if you had any idea. I can't deal with this alone, but I can't let you find out, you have too much to deal with as it is.

It's not your fault, Sam. I see the questions in your eyes. I know you wonder about me, what has happened. You try to ask but back down when I give a flippant remark or sarcastic smirk about it, telling you to drop it. Part of me wishes you would push, demand, desperately wanting you to help, but most of all I want you to leave me alone.

Sam, you are not very good at lying to me, pretending to take my smartass lies as the truth. Hell, I am not very good at lying to you. I see your eyes following me when I move away from you when you get too close. I feel you waiting on me to fall asleep just like I wait on you. I bet you don't know that some nights, when I am not exhausted, I sneak out after you drift off and sleep in the car too afraid that it will happen again, then sneak back in before daylight, praying that you did not have a nightmare.

Dammit, Sam. We talked about this the first time it happened. It was supposed to be sleepwalking for fuck sake! I hope you have forgotten that conversation since neither of us has brought it back up agian. How long ago was that? Five weeks since last time, two months from the time before, two months from...shit, have I let this go on that long? Nearly six months -- I have to find the answer, I have to help you --

Fuck, the plan is not working.


	7. Stay, a Beginning

Secrets and Lies, Stay,a Beginning

In a dirty, little motel room, Sam and Dean were winding down from a job. Sam was lying on one of the beds and Dean was sitting at the table looking through the paper.

"I am going out," Dean said in an offhanded way, more to himself than to Sam, got out of the chair and headed for the door. He glanced towards the beds and thought Sam was drifting off to sleep, but before he could reach the door Sam was standing in front of him.

"Dude, I thought you were asleep," he said, taken aback by the suddeness of his brother's movements. "Get out of my way," trying to push Sam out from in front of him.

"You're staying here," Sam ground out in a deep throated rumble, grabbing Dean's shoulders.

"Whatever," Dean shrugged off the hands and tried to sidestep his brother. He was surprized when Sam slammed him up against the wall.

"You are staying here!" he ordered. There was a flash in his eyes and a dark look on his face that Dean did not recognize.

"What the hell has gotten into you? Back off," Dean demaned and pushed Sam off of him. Sam attacked his older brother with a force that knocked him off balance. They fought for seveal minutes, Dean having to resort to real fighting because Sam appeared to be out for blood. He seemed stronger and more passionate about trying to beat the crap out of his older brother. Dean had finally gotten the upper hand and punched Sam out.

"What the fuck?" He stood there staring at his younger brother, wondering what happened. He could not leave Sam on the floor, 'that's just gross,' so he took ten minutes wrangling his lanky brother onto one of the beds. He also took the time to wipe off the blood trickling from Sam's nose, making sure the bleeding had stopped. "Sorry Sam."

As an afterthought, he got out his EMF meter to check Sam. Nothing was out of the ordianry in the readings, he did a sweep of the room and nothing showed abnormal. "You got some explaining to do," with that he sat down on the other bed and flipped on the TV. He could not go out now, not when he did not know what was going on with Sam. Concern had taken over where the anger had been as he looked at his younger brother. "What is happening to you?"

The next morning they were packing up to head out. From time to time Sam would touch his nose and frown, but did not say anything. When all had been put into the car, Dean finally questioned his younger brother.

"Dude, what the hell got into you last night?" he demanded turning to face Sam standing by the passenger door of the Impala. Dean stood at the back of the car where he had just closed the boot.

"Last night? What about it? " answered Sam, looking confused, "From what I remember, I slept, you are always badgering me to get more sleep." He looked down at his older brother who had walked up to him. He could see anger and frustation in his brother's eyes. "Dean, what did I do?" there was a hint of fear in his voice.

"I thought you were falling asleep but when I got up to leave you freaked," explained Dean. 'he doesn't have a clue' he thought as he looked into his brother's eyes for any trace of comprehension and found none.

"You left? I what? Dean, what's going on? The last thing I remember was you complaining there was nothing on TV," Sam looked scared and could not keep the panic from rising. The psychic dream stuff he had was weird enough, now add sleepwalking, or make that fighting. "Is that why my nose is sore?"

"I didn't leave, but yeah, sorry about that, I had to knock you out to stop you. You got brutal, man." Dean apologized. "Look Sam, do you remember anything else from last night?"

"No, other than the sheets stank and the ceiling cracks made the letter H," Sam answered uncertainly. 'why can't i remember anything? especially fighting with Dean and getting my nose busted.' He wracked his brain for any tidbit of a memory and found nothing. "Oh wait, I didn't dream."

With a surpized look, Dean walked around the car and opened the door. "Well, that's something, I think." They both got into the car and his older brother said, "We will just have to keep watch, Sam, to see what other stuff you do. Maybe we can pinpoint what caused this to happen."

"Yeah, Dean, same way we found out why I started having freak dreams that come true," frustration had taken the place of panic and fear. "How are we going to do that? And what if the next time you don't knock me out, what if I hurt you or worse? What then?" He felt like he was loosing control.

"Dude, I don't know. We don't even know if there is going to be a next time. All I can say now is that I'll watch and you'll try to remember, then we can get to the bottom of this thing," reassuring his younger brother, though he could not keep the thoughts of what had happened at that asylum out of his head. 'but he didn't try to kill me and he did not have a nose bleed unitl I hit him.' This has to be something different.

"I'll just treat it like sleepwalking and wake you up before you freak again. Nothing bad will happen," flashing his brother a grin he hoped was encouraging.

Sam looked at Dean with hopeful eyes and nodded. Dean smiled again, they got in the car, he put in ACDC, cranked it, and they headed out of town to the next job.


	8. Desert, part 1

Secrets and Lies, Desert, prt 1

The road was long and endless. They had been driving for four days and needed to go one more before they reached the next town. The scenery had not changed much in the last two, desert as far as the eye could see, the highway streching forever before and after. They could see storms miles away but no other vehicles on the road besides the occasional semi-rig.

They were bored, the radio had broken two days ago. Conversation had ended about one hundred forty miles back, leaving an unresolved argument to stew about, so that was a no go. They sat in the car, watching the miles and miles of nothingness, not talking to one another.

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"What is wrong with you, Dean? What are you not telling me?" 'talk to me'

"Nothing is wrong with me, Sam. I have told you everyting." 'leave me alone'

"You told me shit. You have been tense around me for awhile and now going to -- what's it, Springfield -- you're worried."

'i know what i see'

"Dude, I am not tense. I am only worried because we need more intel about what is going on."

'drop it'

'that's a load of shit'

"Dammit Dean, you have had less info on other jobs and have not been this worried." 'please'

"Sam, I just want to be prepared. From the sound of it, things might get a bit dangerous, and I do not want either of us to get hurt. I have dealt with these things before and we need more information."

'stop asking, stop talking, just stop!'

"Dean --" 'talk'

"Sam." 'no'

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Neither was going to break the silence, that would mean admitting defeat, pride would never allow that. Thus they sat listening to the sound of the wind whipping through the open windows (the air conditioner gave up, too) and the roar of the engine.

Dean's thoughts would drift from one thing then another, not linguring too long on any subject. More often than not he would start humming a rock song just to stop thinking. Every once in a while his mind would light on what had started months ago. 'shit' shaking his head to rid himself of the unwanted thoughts. He did not want to think of such things while Sam was so close. 'I'm sorry, Sam' Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he stole a look at his younger brother. Sam had his head laid back against the headrest, staring out the window. He hated lying to him, but could not think of a single reason to tell him anything. There was nothing he could do.

Sam was trying his best not to think. He had given up on any attempt to get any kind of real information out of Dean. 'you are such an ass,' bitter thoughts creeped in, though he tried to shake them off. He found that the more he pondered the situation the angier he got. At one point he nearly yelled for them to pull over and finally talk this, whatever it was, out. He halted that thought when he looked over at Dean and saw the white knuckled grip he had on the wheel and was almost one with the door, he could not get any further away, trying to be casual by hanging his arm out the window, but Sam knew better. 'Dean, why are you so -- scared?' Instead of a confrontation, 'the last one went so well,' he opted for the window and the constant drone of the engine. His eyes had started to droop lazily, he let it happen. 'sleep...' he heard more than thought, barely resistering a distant laugh and 'fuck dean,' he dozed.

The last time Dean glanced at Sam his head bobbed along with the bumps in the road. 'sleeping, finally' he relaxed a bit. Wishing for the millionth time he had cruise control, he shifted his position once more to get comfortable, his right leg was going numb. 'I should have asked Sam to drive for a while, but then I would have had to talk to him, damn.' With his brother asleep Dean could think more freely about the situation, that was a plus. The weeks while he recovered, he reviewed the attacks and formulated a plan. The first problem was that he did not anticipate anything and was caught off guard. The second, he underestimated the speed and power. 'he seems stronger and faster, but maybe that is just that I was not ready' his thoughts replayed the attacks more vividly than he wanted. 'I just have to keep out of reach and talk to him more, I can get through to him, my mistake in the past was that I didn't talk to Sam.' With the plan firmly in place he let himself think of more pleasant things. He was reaching for the water bottle between them when he heard that voice.


	9. Desert, part 2

Secrets and Lies, Desert prt 2 

"Pull over now, bitch," that voice growled. Dean paled, his eyes snapped towards that voice, 'shit no.' Where his brother should have been now sat the Other. Gone were the thoughtful eyes, calm face, relaxed body: firey eyes of burning lust stared back at him, the face promised pain, the body coiled, ready to back up that promise. He slammed on the brakes, shut off the car, managed to unbuckle his seatbelt, then tried to get the door open. The Other had a vice-like grip on his right arm, laughing -- a cruel, vicious sound.

"No! Get off me! SAM STOP THIS!" Dean screamed, fear had enveloped him where he wanted resolve. Wrenching his door open and nearly falling out, the Other twisted Dean's right arm and yanked as hard as he could. Dean could feel the shoulder dislocating, he should have been blinded by the pain, but was too determined to get out. 'plan, remember the plan' desparately he streamed the single mined purpose he had formulated. With a kick he was free, scrambling to get purchase, running as fast as he could, his right arm clutched to his chest.

"Don't you make me come get you, BITCH!" the Other yelled after the running figure. Dean faltured but kept on going. When he figured he had enough distance between them, he turned and looked. The unbound fury coming at him was more than he could comperhend. 'murderous' was the thought the sprang in to his mind. It froze him for just a few seconds, seconds he did not have to spare. Dean took off again, running all out -- zig, zag, fake, anything to get far away. 'get to the car, the car, the car' he mind was trying to make him go faster. He saw salvation within a few hundred feet.

He hit the side of the Impala with such speed he thought he dented the door. Fumbling the door open, hazzard to look, the Other was within a hundred feet and closing fast. Jumping in and slamming the door, he reached with his left hand to start the car. 'where the fuck are the keys!' desparately looking Dean did not notice the Other had reached the car.

"Looking for these?" dangling from the Other's fingers, Dean's wide eyes stared at the keys. He hastily attempted to slide across the seat but hateful hands grabbed him and pulled him out the car window.

"Sam, don't do this, you have to stop, Sam listen to me!" he implored his brother to wake up, snap out of it, come back to him, anything. He was shaking with fear, knowing what was going to happen. He was slammed onto the ground and backhanded across the face. The Other held him by his injured arm and pushed his face into the asphalt, the rough road biting into his skin. He yelped in pain and fear.

"Sam? SAM? There is no SAM here, you stupid slut. You think I would let that pansy-ass little shit out while I am having my fun? Do I look that stupid to you? Well I guess I do, I have his face," a harsh chuckle came from the Other, that gravely voice, animated as he taunted Dean. "Always with the concern, that Sam. 'what is happening to my poor widdle Dean? How can I help my suffering snot nosed big brother? Why won't that snivelling shit talk to me? blah blah blah,' on and on. Fuck, if he would just shut up and pay attention he could see that his poor widdle Deany-boy is getting the fuck of his life and coming back for more."

Dean was forcefully shoved face first onto the hood of the car. His nose broke and started to bleed, dizzyness was creeping in on him, threatening to make him puke. Feeling the Other unbuckling his belt, he pushed back trying to knock the Other off of him. He was whipped around and hit repeatedly for his efforts. Attempting to catch his breath, he slumped on the ground, his right arm flopping beside him, pain shooting through his shoulder and various other parts of his body.

"You won't run from me again, bitch," with that the Other picked Dean off the ground enough to give a swift, crushing kick to his left knee.

An unadulturated scream of suffering issued from Dean. Hoping he was going to pass out from the sheer agony, he screamed again, but was not given the luxury. 'nothing can hurt worse than this' flashed through his pain blinded mind, all other thoughts erased, his dislocated shoulder forgotten. He lay there holding his left knee unable to do anything else, he did not have the energy to scream again. Barely hearing the cruel laughter above him, he was lifted up and bent over the hood once more. His jeans were yanked down along with his boxer briefs and was entered viciously.

Dean whimpered with every thrust for it was not only tearing him inside, but each jolt sent white hot stabs of pain though his left leg and right shoulder. All injuries were warring with each other to become the dominate source of agony. His whole body seemed to be on big bundle of pain that he could not get away from. When the Other came, shooting stinging, burning cum in Dean, all he managed was 'it's over.'

"Such a find piece of ass. Man, I'm gonna have to have that again," the Other pulled Dean off the hood and dragged him to the back car door.

'no no no, it's over, you leave, no no no' Dean's mind repeated over and over. He tried to resist, but the pain was too intense. He was being shoved onto the back seat, his left shoe was pulled off and his jeans forced off that leg, and his t-shirt torn from his chest.

"NO STOP NO" protests sputtered out, Dean swiped at the Other's head with his left fist and tried to kick with his right leg, effortlessly he was deterred. Pinning his arms above his head, the Other spread Dean's legs and entered him again, watching his face with brutal pleasure. 'not here, here is safe, not in my car, don't, no!' his mind cried out in a panic, Dean was starting to hyperventilate as he struggled to free himself.

Again, each thrust was a screaming river of agony, forcing moans of pain out of his mouth, but that was not enough to block out the absolute violation. His Impala was the one thing that got him out of tough spots, kept him safe from a multitude of evils, surrounded him like a fortress when he needed protection. In here was where he could think, hide from the world, his saftey net. Now that was gone. He was wrong before, 'this hurts more.'

Looking for his pleasure only, the Other watched with utter enjoyment the panic mixed with pain and sorrow Dean was experiencing. It played out on his face so beautifully that the Other pumped him harder. "yeah, you want it bitch. You need it, slut" sneering at Dean. The Other wanted to kiss that pouty mouth but he just could not tear his eyes off that bloody, suffering face, it was too pretty not to look at. It took him longer to come this time, having had only a short break inbetween, but was just as satisfied when he did. More so because of the defeat he saw on Dean's face when he finished, wonderful.

'no, not here, no, stop, not my car, help me, save me' the words played over and over in Dean's mind, begging the Other for respite. Too late, the damage was done, his sanctuary gone.

"A sweet ass like your's needs to be sampled more. Can't have you forgetting the feel of my long hard dick in you, can't have that. I gotta take a piss," the Other got up and left.

Darkness had started to decend on the desert to match the darkness seeping into Dean's soul. He was lost in a sea of hopelessness. Sam was gone, his saftey was destroyed, he could not move without excruciating pain, and if he could, where would he go? Flinching at the sound of that voice, Dean prayed he would pass out soon, "Time for another ride."


	10. Desert, part 3

Secrets and Lies, Desert prt 3 

The trucker stopped when he saw was a black car parked haphazardly in the highway. He was not one to drive by if someone needed help. But he was not stupid either, he grabbed his pistol and torch then got out to investigate. He was way ahead of schedule, so was not worried about his deadline.

Causiously, Duke, that was his name, approached the driver's side of the car, flashing his torch around for anything suspicious. Looking into the front seat, he saw nothing out of the ordinany, but when he peered into the back seat he saw blood, practically covering it. Doing a sweep of the area with his torch, he readied his pistol, prepared for the worst.

Duke was not prepared for what he saw when he walked around to the passenger side. A person -- a man was stripped to nothing execpt for a shoe on his right foot and what appeared to be a pair of jeans bunched around it, bloody from head to toe, sitting by car, his left hand clutching his throat. Duke went to him, he could hear the man's labored breaths and saw that he flinched at the sound of his footsteps. 'Thank God, he's alive', doing another sweep of the area, he turned his attention back to the person on the ground.

'pain, hurt, please stop, pain, no, hurt, pain, don't leave me'

"Hey, I'm Duke, I'm going to help you," in his best soothing voice, he tried to calm the injured man, noticing that he was shaking. 'no wonder he is shaking, it's 45 degrees out here and him in but his skin.'

Squatting down near the injured man, he took inventory of the injuries he saw. Two black eyes -- swollen shut, broken nose -- bleeding, busted mouth -- bleeding, bruises galore, more cuts, his left knee looked nearly the size bowling ball, and his right shoulder looked disloated. It was horrific, he was surpized the man was conscious.

"Shit son, who did you piss off?" Duke said to himself, the man did not look like he could answer.

'pain, hurt, don't leave me, please, stop, pain'

"d-doonnn h-huurr m-eee g-iinn, p-p-eesss," whispered the injured man, had Duke not been down there with him, he would not have heard him. The man tried to hold his hand out to stem any attack but quickly brought it back to his throat.

Upon closer inspection Duke saw the man was not just sitting against the car, he was tied to it with a belt. The belt had been looped around his neck, pulled between the door and the frame, the door shut effectively immobilizing the person, everytime the man moved from his position the loop tightened. The injured man was holding the belt so as not to strangle himself. 'shit, I have to get him out of here and to a hospital'

"I'm not going to hurt you, son, I just want to get you to a hospital, but first let's get you off this car," his soothing voice still in operation, Duke got up to open the door.

'pain, hurt, your bitch, please, hurt, don't leave me'

"i urr b-bissshhh, d-doonnn h-hh-uurr mmeee n-noo mmoo, p-peess" pleading, the injured man started to cry, his breaths becoming ragged and more labored.

"What? Your my what? No, I won't hurt you, just calm down now," attempting to placate him, Duke opened the door and the man slumped to the ground with a pain filled moan. Afraid to touch him, he ran back to his truck and got the spare blanket, then went back to the man on the ground.

As gently as he could, he covered the injured man with the blanket and lifted him to a seated postion. The man whimpered in pain, still pleading not to be hurt again, Duke trying to reasure him that was not his intention. "What's your name, son?"

'pain, don't hurt me, pain, your bitch, pain, please, don't leave me sam'

"d-doonn lleeeff mmeee s-ssaam-mm" a studdering whisper answered him.

Misunderstanding, "Okay, Sam, here we go, sorry about this, but we need to get you to a hospital," Duke gave up on being gentle, hoisted him into a fireman's carry, and took him to his truck. After he got Sam settled in the passenger seat, glad to see the he finally passed out, Duke got on his radio, signalling that he had an injured person he was rushing to the local hospital. 'Hopefully that will keep the bears off my ass.' He spared no horses getting to Springfield Memorial.


	11. Sam Searches, part 1

Secrets and Lies, Sam Searches, part 1 

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It was freezing when Sam woke up, his thin jacket not doing a great job at keeping out the cold. Looking around he was troubled, 'what am I doing out here?' He sat up scanning the area, too dark to see anything except for the lights of a semi-rig off to his right rolling down the highway. 'that must be the road' Sam searched his pockets and found he had his cell phone and the car keys. "Dean," he said into the darkness, "Dean?" trying to remember how he got here. Getting no response, he dialed the number to his brother's cell. In the distance he hear the faint sound of Dean's cell ringing. 'answer the phone' he thought impatiently, getting up and started walking to the car. Aches and pains blossomed in various parts of his body. 'what the hell happended?' When he got Dean's voice mail he hung up and used his cell as a torch.

Opening the door to get better light, Sam took inventory of his injuries. His knuckles were bruised and split, he had some scratches on his arms, and his crotch ached. 'what the hell?' all he could think was that there was a fight. He undid his pants to determine the extent of the damage. He was shocked to find his dick red and irritated, and the area around it was bruised. 'what happened? was I assulted?' Scooting into the front seat he saw blood, on his hands, on his clothes, in the car, the back seat was covered in it.

"Dean! DEAN! Where are you!" grabbing the torch out of the glove compartment, Sam searched the area frantically for any traces of his older brother. He found Dean's sock, left shoe, belt, and the bloody remains of the t-shirt he was wearing yesterday. 'yesterday, was that yesterday? think'

"You idiot," berating himself, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in his brother's number. He jumped when he heard that distinctive ring coming from under the front seat of the car. Reaching down for it, he also found Dean's wallet. "Shit!" frustration and fear was settling in.

Wracking his brains, he thought back to the last time he saw Dean. They were still not talking, his brother was trying to play it cool while sitting as far away from Sam as he physically could, his eyes never straying from the road ahead. Sam had givien up trying to talk to him, so he just stared out the window, he fell asleep. 'but when did I wake up and get into a fight? where the hell is Dean?'

He had no visions to help him, no premonitions, in fact he did not recall dreaming at all. Stunned, he slid into the driver's seat, counting the number of times he did not dream. The last time was about two months ago, around the time Dean got into that fight over a poker game. Before that was almost four months ago, when Dean was beaten badly by that biker. 'wait a minute...' The first time he recalled not having a dream was when Dean said that he attacked him and Dean busted Sam's nose knocking him out. 'sleepwalking, that's what he called it. hell, Dean, what happened, what did I do to you?' Guilt and greif threatened overwhelmed him at that line of thinking. 'I have to talk to Dean, I have to make him tell me the truth. but where is he? Maybe that trucker picked him up -- but he would not leave without me -- maybe that trucker was the one who did this -- maybe he took --' with that thought he started the car and drove in the direction that semi-rig took. From his calculations he was about 45 minutes to an hour behind, he would catch up. Pressing the gas pedal, he opened up the V8 engine and flew down the highway to find Dean. 'I will find you, I promise.'

-----------------------------------------


	12. Sam Searches, part 2

Secrets and Lies, Sam Searches, part 2

By the time he caught up the the semi-rig, it had turned in at the local hospital. Sam held back as he watched the hospital staff wrestle with a struggling form wrapped in a blanket to get him onto a gurney. He debating rushing in when the police arrived. With that development, he pulled away opting for getting cleaned up so as not to arouse any suspicions. Sam did not want the cops questioning him about the blood on him or the car, that would not help him get to Dean. 'hell, they might even arrest me'

When Sam had finished cleaning himself and the Impala, he could not believe the amount of blood he found in and on the car, the sun had been up for almost an hour. One of the more disturbing things he found was that he had Dean's ring on his finger and necklace around his neck, his brother never took either off, ever. He wracked his brain and still could not recall anything after he drifted off to sleep on the road yesterday. Worry was his ever present companion. Part of him wished maybe it was not his older brother at that hospital, part of him hoped it was. But the biggest part hoped that Dean was back in the desert, pissed off that Sam drove off without him, waiting for his little brother to pick him up.

The police had gone from the hospital when Sam arrived. He parked his brother's car in the back, went in the emergency room entrance, then found the nurse on duty. "I am looking for my brother, he might have been brought in in the last few hours," inquired Sam, his eyes anxoius and voice concerned. Need poured out of him in waves. 'please let it be dean, please'

"Well, let's see. Only one man has been brought in, a car accident. Oh, I wish the night nurse would not abberviate. A trucker found him and brought him in," the duty nurse answered seeing the little-boy-lost look on the young man in front of her.

Frowning, "A car accident? Are you sure?" Sam wrinkled his brow in confusion, hope starting to crumble. 'could that be what happened? an accident? but the car is not damaged'

"Yes, as far as I can interpret from the notes in the file. I was not on duty when he was brought in, mind you, that would have been Helan Boien, the night nurse. His name is Sam, is that your brother?" she asked in a caring tone, seeing the loss in the young man's eyes.

"I'm Sam, my brother's name is Dean," in a daze, he turned to leave. 'its not him, its not my brother, i have wasted so much time.' Dejected, Sam stumbled down the stairs of the hospital, 'i left him in the desert, hurt and alone' Running to the car, he jumped in and headed back the way he came in, 'i know you will be pissed, but i am coming back for you, don't worry dean' Hope renewed itself as Sam speed down the highway. 


	13. Dean Recovers, part 1

Secrets and Lies, DeanSam Recovers, part 1

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He sat slouched in the corner, head back against the wall, peering out from under his eyelashes, legs streched out in front. If you were to causally glance at him, you would think he was taking a relaxing afternoon nap in a comfy chair. Having been here for four weeks, the doctors, nurses and orderlies knew that he was not in any way relaxed. He watched everyone, always had his back to a wall, never talking, and never getting close to anyone. The staff would greet him as they would any of the patients and he would duck his head with a crooked half smile and back away.

When he arrived, brought in by a trucker in the early morning hours, he was a mess. The intital exam had been a nightmare, he fought anyone who touched him, pleading not to be hurt but not to be left alone. 'don't hurt me, please stop, i be good, i your bitch, don't leave me' When the drugs took affect the total extent of his injuries was determined. Surgery for two hours, stitches for lacerations, bandages for cuts, wrap for the ribs, set the shoulder, immobilize the arm in a sling, and splint the knee, luckily no major damage there, and a rape kit done. Along with all his other injuries, he had been raped repeatedly over a period of hours; whoever worked him over left no part of him unhurt. Also, in their examination they found scars all over his body, fresh and old, and x-rays showed past breaks to his ribs, arms, fingers, and right leg, all had healed relatively clean. 'he must have been abused as a child and it seems the cycle continues,' Dr. Benson hoped that whoever did this to his patient never came back into his life.

He did not wake until the two days later, incoherent and disoriented. When the nurse went to check on him, he had gotten out of bed and made it to the stairwell before anyone found him. 'rungetawayrungetawayrun' It took three orderlies, two nurses, a doctor, and a heavy sedative to get him back in bed. 'don't make me come get you bitch' After that attempt to escape, he did not get out of bed again until his doctor told him he could. 'you made me do this, if you just cooperate and be good, it is all your fault' In the days that followed, the staff noticed that he watched them as the went about their duties. He rarely remained sleeping when anyone came into his room. He would flinch at any noise, loud or soft, he cringed back when anyone got too close, fear of being touched. With help from medications, he would reluctantly but fearfully let the doctors examine him to check his progress as he healed.

The police had no leads nor did they find the car. When the trucker gave his statment he could not remember anything else other than it was an older model, four door, dark colored sadan. The only evidence was the clothes he was wearing, rather hanging off him, a sock, right shoe, jeans, boxer briefs, and the rape kit, no matches were found in the system. He did not have any identification and his fingerprints were not in the system either, which was not surprizing for the police's system was ten years out of date. So the evidence was shipped off to the state crime lab, being a low priority the state took their time getting to his case. They could not circulate a picture because of the condition his face was in, even if someone knew him, he was unrecognizable. The only thing they had was a name, the one the trucker gave for him when he brought him in, Sam.

"Hi, Sam, how are you today?" asked the doctor, not expecting an answer, as he came into the dayroom. 'sam me, doctor nice, too close' Getting up from the chair, Sam nodded and angled himself closer to the doorway. 'don't run, bad, i be good, please' Looking around cautiously, he settled against the wall his head lowered, a crooked half smile on his lips, shoulders rounded and hunched, hands to his sides. Dr. Benson thought, 'how can a six foot man look so small?', as he stayed the four foot away that was silently requested of him. Looking down at his patient's chart, he wrote that Sam did not flinch at his greeting, an improvment. Dr. Benson had been Sam's medical doctor from the beginning along with Dr. Coizer, his psychologist, and knew the delicate balance that he was trying to maintain. He and Dr. Coizer had worked with a few rape victims before, thus understanding the trama the victims went through, but not to the extent that his patient seemed to have experienced. Being essentially a John Doe, there was no one to help him get through this, unlike the other cases. 

His initial psych evaluation was not encouraging, Dr. Coizer had him moved to the psych ward to better care for him. He had not spoken voluntarily since that morning he was brought in and still feared physical contact. He also had nightmares which left him fending off unseen attackers, screaming at the top of his lungs, and gasping for breath. The first time that happened it had ended in him reinjuring himself trying to fight off the staff who were wanting to help. They had been instructed to stay away until he calmed down on his own then administer a sleep aid if he had not drifted off. The nightmare episodes are written in his chart, time, duration, and words spoken, for review the next day. It was noted that most of what was screamed during his nightmares were his name, some Latin phrases (an orderly taking classes at the university recognized those), pleas to stop and not leave him. During their sessions, when Dr. Coizer mentioned the nightmares, his patient would wrinkle his brow in confusion as to why he called his own name, 'me sam', give a look of fright at the Latin phrases, 'keeps away the bad, please Cristo', then get up to leave when the pleas were brought up, 'i, no, please, i can't, i don't know, stop it' The biggest challenge the doctor faced was getting him to speak, and Sam was not making any effort to try. 'talk bad, speak hit, words hurt'

"I see you are getting around better these days. Let me see, you are due for physical therapy at 3, Dr. Coizer wants to see you around 4, then the police would like to talk to you after that," Dr. Benson saw the confusion in his patitent's eyes. 'police, am i bad, stay away, can't get caught, you won't run from me again bitch, no' In his best non-threatening manner, the doctor explained the procedure to his patient. "They just want to show you some pictures to see if you recognize anything." 'be good, i be good, not bad, not bad' He ducked his head once more and took a step towards the doorway, hesitating. 'sam still can't be in the same room with someone for very long, but he did not leave, another improvment' noting that in his chart, Dr. Benson said goodbye and returned to his rounds.

After four weeks most of Sam's bruises had faded, the deeper ones now in ugly shades of yellows and greens. The swelling was gone from his face, it was determined that his eyes did not suffer any damage and his nose was out of the splint, it should heal straight. His ribs were mending as well as his shoulder and knee. He limped a bit, still needing to work it out, he would have problems with his knee the rest of his life. 

When the doctor left, he relaxed a tiny bit and went to look out the window of the dayroom, studying the cars in the carpark. 'what is not here, what am i looking for, who is not here? where are you?' Sighing, he scanned the room again, turned back to the chair in the corner, then sat down and waited. 'i wait, i watch, i wait, i watch'

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	14. Dean Recovers, part 2

Secrets and Lies, DeanSam Recovers, part 2 

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Salt was always in short supply in the psych ward dining room. Daily the salt shakers had to be refilled. It wasn't until one of the cleaning staff happened to to overhear one of the dining staff complining to the duty nurse. "I don't know about your patients, but theyhave beenconsuming an awful lot of salt in the last month. I have to fill the shakers twice a day."

"I know where all the salt is going, I have to clean it up every morning," the cleaning lady said to the startled nurse and dining room worker. "The patient in room 494 scatters it in his room each night."

The nurse talked to the patient's doctor, who in turn talked to the patient, who stared, blinked, and remained silent. 'afraid, salt is protection, fear, has to be done to be safe, be afraid of the dark'

"Sam, what are you doing with all that salt? Why are you putting it in your room at night?" Dr. Coizer asked in vain. The more he asked the more closed off his patient became. After seven weeks he still could not convince his patient it was okay to speak. 'talk bad, he said shut up, hurt to talk, pain'

With his injuries healed, bruises faded, the female staff had found Sam to be most handsome with a cute smile, when he would let anyone look at him for any length of time. 'don't look, not here, hide' He still got nervous with more than a few moments of attention and could not let anyone get within arms' length, closer but no touching. 'what can you see, who do you see, do you see me, i can't see me' The police had taken pictures and posted flyers now that you could see what the man looked like, but that had proven fruitless.

The patient looked around anxiously, feeling trapped. He understood the words, the meanings, but had no idea how to respond. 'salt makes safe' his need displayed on his face but not the explaination. 'asking and asking, can't say, secret, can not tell, rule.' Odd thoughts would leap into his brain, snippets of information, vague thoughts and memories. He could not tell his doctor why even if he wanted to, it was forbidden. Something was out there and he needed to be protected.

It had beenfound that the Latin phrases he would call out during his nightmares were to cast out demons or spirits. His doctor had questioned him, thier sessions usually ended with the doctor frustrated, Sam angry, scared, and rushing out of the room. 'leave me alone, can't tell you, secret, no one is to know, except they know, they could help, who are they?' He would be found an hour or so later in the chapel sitting, rocking, and staring. 'who are you? where are you? who am i?' No one noticed that the holy water was dwindling as well.

Dr. Coizer knew that his patient could write, the nurses and cleaning staff had found symbols and Latin phrases scrawled about his room. Also, similar symbols were found drawn on the walls and doorways of the floor. The doctor tried to get Sam to write other things, English would be nice, but to no avail. 'have to be protected, be afaid of the dark'

One day when Dr. Coizer found his patient looking out the window of the dayroom, his favourite passtime, he was not prepared for the very outward display of emotions. "What is is Sam? What do you see?" looking out trying to determine what Sam was so excited about. Pointing at a black older model car in the back carpark, in a gruff but excited tone he said, "Sam!" It was as if the fog had been lifted and the world had finally come back into focus. Longing and need played across his patient's face, Dr. Coizer could not belive that he just spoke. Joy also rolled off the man as he rushed out the doorway, his doctor following close behind, confused but hopeful.

'it's sam, i know sam, i am not sam, sam don't leave me'

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	15. Sam Discovers

Secrets and Lies, Sam Discovers, part 1 

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Days passed into nights, nights into days. 'it has been fiftyone damn days since i lost you, dean' Sam's mind calculated the time, each day he lost a bit more of himself. His every waking moment was concentrated on finding his brother. He had scoured the desert for any clues, searching in a ten mile radius of what he thought was the place they had stopped. He drove to every town in a hundred miles asking anyone who would take the time. He had thought of filing a police report but remembered that Dean had been declared dead in St. Louis, MO in conjunction with the killings due to that shapeshifter. He had called thier dad in a vain attempt for help, but like all the other times before, no reply came. Sam felt utterly alone.

Even his dreams were of no help, his freak abilities failing him. Some vague instances of Dean in distress mixed with odd thoughts of weird animalistic hunger. He would catch hints of rough laughter, half heard lustful thoughts, 'my bitch'. These usually came to him when he was in that dozy stage between wakefulness and sleep. He could not grasp any of them, they stayed out of reach, half formed and foggy, nothing for him to fully realize into anything solid. They left him feeling strange and disconnected, invaded. He filed them away as stress, anger, frustration, and grief for his brother. 'i left you and now you are lost, i failed you dean'

On that fiftyfirst day, Sam found himself back in Springfield. 'never did do that job' he thought absurdly to himself as he pulled up to a diner just inside the city limits. He dragged in, road weary and emotionally drained from searching. He ordered two coffees and a ham sandwich, not really wanting to eat but knowing he had to keep up his strength. 'where are you dean? dammit, why don't you call me? if you would just fucking appear in a dream this would be over' anger leeching into his thoughts. He wished he had a good photo to circulate. The only ones he had were on the collection of fake ids in the glove box and none of them clear, just enough out of focus so they would not have to be replaced so often. The ones he had at Stanford burned the night Jess died. It was not like they had any oppertunities to take snaps. He chuckled, wondering what his brother would say if he had tried to take his picture. 'dammit sam, stop that or i will beat your ass.' Tears threatened, forming in his eyes but hesitating to fall.

Drinking the last of his coffee, ignoring his sandwich, idly spinning his brother's ring on the middle finger of his right hand, Sam's eyes roamed around the diner. In the thirtysix days he had been gone, none of the people seemed to have changed, give or take a tourist or two. Absentmindedly, he stuffed the sandwich into his pocket then got up to pay. At the register a smiling young waitress took his money with a wink, handed him his change. 'she's new. what the hell?' A flyer by the register caught Sam's attention, ripping it down, he asked the waitress where it came from and when it was put up, his hands shaking.

"The police brought it in about a month ago, asking us to post it, you know, just in case," she replied, a bit taken aback at her patron's sudden intensity. "Do you know him? He is quite cute," she added with a grin.

"Dean," he barely whispered as he rushed out the door, reading the flyer:

-- DO YOU KNOW THIS MAN? FIRST NAME 'SAM', 25-30 YEARS OF AGE, 6' tall, BROWN HAIR, GREEN EYES, FOUND ON HWY 42 SOUTH OF SPRINGFIELD. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION PLEASE CONTACT THE SPRINGFIELD POLICE --

Sagging against the car, the date at the bottom of the flyer jumped into his line of site, the flyers had been printed thirtyfour days ago, 'shit, i missed this by TWO FUCKING DAYS!' It was all he could do to keep standing. The tears that threatened trailed down Sam's face at his misfortune, yet hoping beyond hope that he had finally found his older brother. Dean was staring out from the flyer looking confused and frightened, not the cocky, confident brother he knew, but it was his face none the less. 'dammit, it was you that morning, and i left you, how could i be do stupid' he berated himself, guilt exploded, almost overwhelming him, the tears finally falling. Gunning the engine, Sam sped toward the hospital.

------------------------------------------------


	16. So Close, So Far

Secrets and Lies, So Close, So Far 

--------------------------------------------------

Searching through the fake ids, Sam found the ones he was looking for, these were their emergency driver's licences and birth certificates. 'Dean Remington' and 'Sam Remington', the names brought a smile to Sam's lips, stuffing the ids into Dean's and his wallets, he tried not to run to the hospital entrance.

He saw the same flyer taped to the doors as he entered the building. The receptionist was talking on the phone when he approached. Barely giving her time to hang up, Sam held the flyer up to her face, "This is my brother, where is he?"

"I'm sorry, who are you?" trying to take control of the conversation, the receptionist frowned at young man.

"I am this man's brother and have been looking for him for the last fiftyone days. May I see him?" he answered as calmly as he could, willing her to give him what he wanted.

"Just a minute," she typed in the information, "Yes, this man is a John Doe named Sam, funny a John Doe with a first name," chuckling to herself as she read the computer screen.

"Please where is he, I have to see him," Sam nearly beggingthis woman to hurry up.

Hearing the heartache in the young man's voice, the receptionist sobered, "I will page his doctor and he will come down to talk to you. Please have a seat, it should not be too long."

"Can I just go see him," Sam pleaded, hating the delay. 'so close, yet so far away' the cliche floated through he head.

"I'm sorry, I see you are very anxious to see your brother, but this is procedure," attempting to placate the distraut young man, "there is a pending police investigation. Please have a seat," indicating the waiting room to her right, "I have paged Dr. Coizer, he should be right down."

"Thank you," his thoughts whirling like a tornado, Sam moved to take one of the seats closest to the doorway so that he could monitor all the entrances and exits.

'please be him, please be dean'

-------------------------------------------------

"Stay back, don't touch him," Dr. Coizer yelled as his patient rushed to the lift. He was darting right and left in a effort to avoid the security personnel. The doctor caught up, "Sam, what is going on?" panting but getting all the words out.

His patient looked at the doctor then pointed at the lift doors, "Sam!" joy and expectaion in his eyes. 'he's here, sam you're here'

Confused but wanting to help his patient, "You want to go outside?" After nearly two months his patient finally decides to speak and he has not a clue what his is trying to say.

He looked at his doctor like he was an idiot, placing his hand on his chest, "Dean," pointing to the lift, "Sam," his voice raspy from non use. 'how stupid are you?'

"Your name is Dean, not Sam?" Dr. Coizer did not know what to think.

Flashing the doctor a smirk as if to say 'no shit', he responded, "I'm Dean, Sam's my brother." The look he got from his doctor was of pure amazement. He turned to get the lift to work but he did not have a badge to activate it.

They were interrupted by Dr. Coizer's pager beeping. He looked at the number, took his phone and called. After a short conversation, he turned his attention back to the now angry looking Sam/Dean, he did not know what to call him. "Well, it seems there is a man downstairs claiming to be your brother. I am going to talk to him to verify his claim."

A dark look clouded Sam/Dean's face, he did not like that answer. Crossing his arms, he stood in the doctor's way. "I cannot break protocol. May I remind you there is a pending investigation on your case. We have to be sure he is who he says he is. I promise you, I will bring him up here so that you may see for yourself." Giving Sam/Dean his best I-am-the-doctor-do-as-I-say stare, "Wait in the dayroom and I will be back shortly."

Sam/Dean added confusion to his anger, 'what investigation? what case?', not saying another word he stalked passed the doctor to the dayroom. 'sam, sam, sam'

-------------------------------------------


	17. Reunion, Sam

Secrets and Lies, Reunion, Sam

-------------------------------------------

Sam nervously shifted in his seat, absentmindedly spinning Dean's ring on his finger. 'where is dean, what is taking the doctor so long' looking around, he found that he could not see any more than he could a minute before. The doctor had brought him here then left, asking him to wait. 'all i do is wait' He jumped when the door opened, stood when two men walked in, shook their hands when introduced, just going through the motions, he was anxious to see his brother.

"So you say you are our patient's brother," the first doctor, Coizer, said, "As I mentioned earlier, I am his psychologist, and this is his primary medical doctor, Dr. Benson. We have been on he case since he was brought in," looking down, shifting through the pages in the folder on the desk, "almost two months ago."

"What? Two months?" Sam stared at the doctor in front of him. "But the flyer was printed only thrityfour days ago. What do you mean, two months?" confusion and anguish heavy in his voice. 'he was here that morning and i left him, fiftyone days, i left him' Sam's guilt grew exponentially. 'dean must think that i abandoned him'

The second doctor, Benson, said, "Yes, it has been just over seven weeks and yes, the flyers are only one month old. But what you must realize is that our patient was in real bad shape when he was brought in. Do you not know how long your brother has been missing?"

Ignoring the accusation in the doctor's tone, "My brother has been missing for fiftyone days and fifty nights. We were on a road trip cross country going to Califoria to meet our dad, when something happened. I don't know what, I guess we were in a fight because when I woke up in the desert I had cuts and bruises. When I found the car Dean was nowhere," Sam was babbling and could not stop, "I came here that morning, a nurse told me that the only man brought in had been in a car accident. We were not in a car accident." His eyes glazed over as he remembered that morning.

Dr. Benson was looking through his notes again, "Ah, yes, Nurse Boien took the notes, she has very poor shorthand, I can see how the notes could have been misinterpreted."

"'Misinterpreted'? I could have been here helping my brother instead of running all over Hell's half acre looking for him," Sam's voice was rising with his anger, "I have wasted fiftyone miserable days searching, worrying, and praying that he was okay. I have wasted too much time. Where is he? Where is Dean?" he was standing by the time he finished, he wanted to get to his brother and explain how sorry he was for leaving him.

"Sit down, Mr.-" Dr. Coizer read the driver's licence, "Remington, this is not getting us anywhere. We are not here to accuse, we just want to get the facts. I called the police when I was notified you were here, they will want a statment when they arrive. As I have said before, there is an investigation into this case and any information will be of help." 

"Sam, call me Sam," he sat down, almost embarrassed, he felt used up, worthless.

After both doctors had reviewed the documents that Sam had given them earlier, Dr. Coizer contiuned, "Well Sam, it looks like you have all the information needed to authenicate your's and your brother's identities. I would like to ask you some questions before we go see your brother."

"Sure, fine," Sam would give anything to see Dean.

"First of all, we are not used to referring to your brother as 'Dean,'" Dr. Benson started, "we were under the impression that his name was 'Sam.' That is the only name we had to go by, the trucker who brought him in gave it and he did not dispute it... but I digress, if you were attacked, why did you not report it or come in to get treated?"

"Like I said before, I had some minor cuts and bruises, nothing major. I was worried about my brother, I could not find him," Sam did not want to go into the bruising at his crotch. Though he could not remember any sexual attack, he did not think it was necessary. At that moment, he felt a sense of dread, 'what if dean...' he could not finish the thought.

"Let me tell you, you got off lucky, your brother on the other hand did not fare so well. As you can see from these pictures," the doctor passed Sam several photos,"the flyers could not have been put out any earlier, you could not tell who or what he looked like," Dr. Benson gave a run down of Dean's injuries and the treatment he had received. "In addition, your brother was raped repeatedly over several hours. Are you sure you were not attacked?"

"No, not me, I think I would have remembered that. Is there any evidence of how many there were?" Sam sat there stunned at the brutality of it all. 'if i got away, why did i not help dean? was my attack more vicious than I thought and I passed out?'

"There was only one doner and he has not been identified in the system, but our system is ten years out of date. All of the evidence has been sent to the state crime lab," Dr. Benson finished.

Dr. Coizer took over, "As you will see, while his physical wounds have healed, I am afraid his psychological wounds will take more time. Other than today, he has not spoken since that first morning. In light of what we now know, he must have been calling out for you, not his name, at that time. He suffers nightmares in which he speaks in Latin or pleads for help. The Latin we found out about from one of the orderlies here who is taking classes at university. I was hoping you could shed some insight. But this is not the time," getting up from his chair, "How about we go see your brother? I have to say he was quite adament about seeing you."

Breaking into a sad smile, "Yeah, that's Dean." Sam could not wrap his mind around what had happened to his older brother, could not absorb all of that the doctors had told him. 'attacked, raped, brutalized' His could not comprehend the horror. 'no wonder you did not call, i am sorry dean' His mind was sobbing with grief for his brother. 'fiftyone fucking days, and i left you deal with this all alone'

Sam blindly followed Dr. Coizer into the lift, Dr. Benson was going to his rounds he mentioned before. He barely registered what the doctor was saying on the ride to the forth floor. 'this has got to be the slowest lift on the planet' irritated at the delay. His thoughts were interupted by the doctor's pager going off. Sam noted the doctor frowned, looking worried, but did not call the number.

The doors opened a moment later, Sam saw that the fourth floor looked like the first, except for there were a lot more nurses and orderlies. As he stepped off the lift he saw who he thought was his older brother over the doctor's shoulder. The man was standing pressed up against the far wall, looking panicked. When their eyes met, Sam knew that was Dean.

"DEAN!" he yelled, he heard his brother yell his name at the same time, filled with raw emotion, and saw him rush forward. Sam pushed past Dr. Coizer, again he was almost swallowed by his feelings, this time it was joy at finally finding his brother. 'i found you, i am here, i am so sorry i left you, dean'

------------------------------------------------- 


	18. Reunion, Dean

Secrets and Lies, Reunion, Dean 

----------------------------------------------

Dean sat and waited. The joy he felt when he saw his car in the carpark had turned into anxious anticipation. He was sitting in the chair in the corner so that he would see the lift through the doorway, not wanting to miss his brother. 'where were you, sam? why am i here?' random thoughts flashed through his mind.

_Pain shot through his body, he was fighting, trying to get away. Someone was after him, hurting him._

Dean stood up, panting, he looked around, no one else was in the dayroom. A nurse walked by, smiled, and continued on. 'shit, what was that?' He paced, constantly looking for the doctor and his brother to arrive. 'get me out of here sammy'

A strange feeling of dread started to creep into his thoughts. 'what if i am wrong? but it has to be him,' forcing himself to look out the window again. He knew that car, he was not mistaken, his car, his safety, his freedom, his home. But the more he looked at it the more he felt that dread. 'sam will explain, he better have not wrecked my car, why can't i remember' He searched his brain for any answers, memories.

_He was blind and in intense pain, being pulled out of the back of his car. Landing roughly, his shoulder was flared in agony followed quickly by his knee. His voice was hoarse from screaming and pleading for his attacker to stop. 'please stop, stop, no more, please' His ass joined in the chorus, his body racked with pain, he felt like one huge bruise, inside and out. He heard laughter, hideous and evil, reveling in his suffering._

_"You are not going to get away from me again, bitch," a gruff voice commanded as he was propped up against the car. He felt something wrap around his throat, he reached up with his good hand to relieve the pressure. "This will keep you secure. I let you get away before, not going to happen again." The door opened, the belt tightened (he recognized the feel) around his neck, then the door closed. He tried to move, the belt tightened each time he shifted. "Why don't you make yourself comfy while I go take a piss," the horrible voice jeered. A harsh, hungry kiss was forced onto his mouth. He had to endure it because if he moved he risked strangulation. "You do have such a pretty mouth."_

"NO!" Dean yelled, stumbling away from the window. He looked wildly around, still no one was in the dayroom with him, save for the nurse who ran in at his exclaimation. He hit the back wall in a effort to keep as far away from her and the two orderlies who just came in. 'stay away, get back, he can't have me again, don't touch me!' Dean was shaking, sweating, nearly hyperventalating, fear rolling off of him in waves. His mind was racing a mile a minute. 'who was that? what happened? help me sam'

"Sam, are you okay?" the nurse asked, waving the orderlies back. She knew this patient and was quite surprized at his very animated actions. Though she had never had experience with his panic attacks before, she knew that it was best to keep everyone away until he calmed down. He was looking around frantically, had that trapped animal look to him. 'he is going to hurt himself' Using hernurse-knows-best voice, "Just calm down, I will have your doctor paged," she noted that his eyes did not light on anything too long, 'this is going to get ugly' Thinking better of leaving him alone, she called out to one of the orderlies behind her, "Ben, tell Sheila to page Dr. Coizer, a 911." She heard the man rush away. "It is going to be just fine, you are safe here, no one is going to hurt you," she kept here voice soothing trying to get the patient's attention, his panic was overwhelming him. "Your doctor will be here shortly." She did not want to resort to drugs, but if his doctor did not get here soon that may be their only choice.

Dean had been inching toward the doorway, seeing several orderlies and nurses in the hallway, he stopped. 'stay away, don't touch me' They were not advancing but not retreating either. Not knowing what to do, he froze, tears forming in his eyes, helpless. 'go away, go away, go away' willing the people gone.

At that moment, the lift doors opened, Dr. Coizer stepped out, worry on his face, followed by the one person Dean had been wishing for. Dean launched himself off the wall, "SAM!"

"DEAN!" Sam exclaimed at the exact same moment, Dean saw him push past the doctor to get to him.

'it's you, it's you, sam, sam,samsamsam' his mind screamed for his salvation.

--------------------------------------------------


	19. Reunion, Sam and Dean

Secret and Lies, Reunion, Sam and Dean 

--------------------------------

Relief and joy flooded Dean when he saw his younger brother walk out of that lift. He rushed to Sam as a moth to a flame. "Sam," whispered Dean this time, holding on to his brother with all his might, embracing him in a bone crushing hug. His relief turned to dread, his joy to fear. Sam's arms were at first reassuring, now subduing, confining. 'no, no, no!' he felt trapped, 'is it him? is it the Other? who is he'

"NO!" Dean yelled and forcefully tearing himself out of the embrace, backing away. "Don't touch me!" he could not stand his brother's hands on him. 'stay away' He felt unclean and vulnerable, he started to shake, afraid. His eyes had gone wild, looking around frantically he searched for a way to escape. 'what the fuck?' he was bewildered by his thoughts, feelings, and actions.

Dr. Coizer had waved everyone back, not knowing what to expect. When he saw his patient start to panic, he went to the nurse at the desk and ordered her to get a sedative, he was going to have to intervene. Having been through this many times before, except for the talking, he knew it was going to end ugly.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam was confused as well, something was wrong, when he saw the look of fear on his brother's face he faultered. "It's me, Sam," he said softly, praying that his big brother knew him. He risked a look back at his brother's doctor, silently asking what to do.

Dean's eyes snapped to his brother at his question. 'sam, you're sam, not...' he hated the feelings he was experiencing but could not deny them, they came on so strong. He had backed up against the wall again, Sam and that doctor were standing in front of him. 'who is that? where am i?' looking around again he did not recognize anything or anyone, but it all seemed oddly familar. 'sam, i know sam, i remember -- something else' Dean stared at his brother, "What am I doing here? What happened, Sam?" his voice was uncharacteristically small and uncertain. Looking at the doctor he should know, "Who are you?"

Dr. Coizer stepped forward taking control, noting the familar flinch he stopped, "Sa-Dean, I am your doctor, have been for the past two months now."

Sam also stepped forward, noticing Dean did not flinch, took another step, "Dean, we were attacked, you were hurt and brought to this hospital," explaining, trying to hold himself together for his brother. 'let me help you'

'attacked, hospital, two months' Dean tensed up further, he felt out of control. Disjointed thoughts flew around in his brain -- arguing with Sam, driving through the desert, a plan for safety, the Other, pain, blackness -- He closed his eyes tight and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I lost you. I've been searching for you for the last fiftyone days," Sam's voice was breaking with sorrow, "I never gave up, I am so sorry I left you." Tears started to roll down his face. 'please forgive me'

Dean saw the tears and heard the anguish thick in his younger brother's voice. 'fiftyone days, sam lost me, i was lost' Dean stared at Sam, he could see the guilt in his eyes, he was asking for forgiveness. 'what are you doing sam? what do you know?' Another type of fear gripped him, fear that his brother found out what was happening and blamed himself for it. 'no, sam, no' he was feeling lightheaded, his vision blurring. "Sam," he reached out and grabbed hold of his brother's arm like a lifeline. "It's not your fault," looking straight into Sam's eyes, he had to tell him, Sam had to understand. 'believe'

"Dean, I --" Sam started but stopped when Dean's knees buckled, catching him, Sam guided Dean to the floor.

"Stay Sam, don't leave me," Dean pleaded, his eyes glazed, he passed out.

"I'll never leave you again, never," Sam said softly into his brother's hair, holding him close. He sat on the floor gently rocking his older brother, tears rolling down his face. Dean did not loosen his grip on Sam, even unconscious. 'but it is my fault, i lost you, i left you all alone' Sam felt useless and unworthy.

--------------------------------------------


	20. Finding Evidence, part 1

Secrets and Lies, Finding Evidence, part 1 

---------------------------------------------

Sam was sitting in Dean's room next to his bed watching his brother sleep. He was worried, the doctor said that sometimes Dean would passout from the stress of the panic attacks and that this was one of those times. 'what am i supposed to do?' He was not prepared, dispite the discussion he had with the doctors.

"Mr. Remington?" Sam jumped at the voice, remembering who he was he turned to the person in the doorway. "Yes and call me Sam," answering as calmly as he could.

"Mr. Rem- Sam, the police are here to speak to you," the nurse informed him. Sam frowned then quickly schooled his features, 'damn, i forgot about them', and tried to gently remove his brother's hand from his arm. "I'll be right there, I just can't seem to..." his voice trailed off in concentration.

"He ususally does not want to be touched," the nurse said as she tried to help Sam, "I am surprized he done this." She smiled up at him, "I hope you can help him, he seems so sad and scared."

"Yeah, me too," Sam whispered. They carefully pried Dean's fingers from his viselike grip and Sam followed the nurse to Dr. coizer's office. He was greeted by the doctor and a man, who the doctor introduced as Detective Brice. Sam shook his hand and sat in the indicated chair.

"I have been on your brother's case since the beginning and I am sorry to say, other than you, I have not had any luck. I was hoping you could shed some light on the incedent that led to your brother being brought here," in a tired but concerned tone, Det. Brice got down to business. Dr. Coizer left them alone.

Sam and the detective talked for an hour, going over the same ground that he and the doctors had earlier. He could not remember any more than what he already had said and did not elaborate on the real reason for their cross country trek.

"You said that the evidence was sent to the state crime lab," Sam inquired, "have you gotten the results back?"

The detective was writing in his notebook, he stopped and flipped a few pages back, "As of today, no. I must tell you, there is a backlog of about four to six months." Reaching in to his bag, he pulled out a small stack of papers. Shuffling through them, he handed some to Sam, "I need you to fill out these forms." Turning to the doctor who just entered the room, "Dr. Coizer, I need to speak to you." He got up and left the room with the doctor, leaving Sam alone with the papers and his bag.

Carefully and as quickly as he could, Sam grabbed the bag and started looking. He needed to find out the case number and all the information to get the crime lab results before the police did. 'can't have them finding out they have a dead felon in the hospital' Finding what he was looking for, he copied the required information and stuffed everything back into the detective's bag, then went to fill out the forms. The door opened just as he started back.

"I can bring these to the station when I complete them, if you do not mind. I would like to get back to my brother," Sam, masking his nervousness at almost being caught with worry for his brother, stood up to leave.

"Sure, that would be find. I can't imagine how you feel, but I think I would do the same. Just bring them in as soon as you can so that we can solve this case," Det. Brice smiled his tired sad smile he used too often in cases like this.

"Thank you Det. Brice, thank you," Sam left the room trying to think of a way to retrive the package. 'i need to call to find out when the results will be completed.' Before he did anything he had to go see Dean again.

------------------------------------------------------------


End file.
